


In History

by FairyNiamh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannon Fodder, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Sorry Not Sorry, Trope Bingo Round 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyNiamh/pseuds/FairyNiamh
Summary: Dean is bored and stumbles across something interesting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Today's word: Holiness

Dean was reading an old book, shut it, he can read... (meaning the internet was down, Sam was hoarding the T.V. watching some lame ass animal program, and he was bored. Besides, he still stands behind his suspicion that there _is_ porn hidden in the library. Even Men of Letters had to release some steam from time to time.) Besides, some of the Native American stories he stumbled across were interesting, to say the least.

In fact, "Hey, Sammy, turn off the kittens and get your ass in here," he yelled with an almost giddy feeling bubbling up inside. He wondered if this is what Sam felt when he found something.

"It was actually about the history of witchcraft," his brother complained as he slipped into the room.

"Oh yeah; and how much of it was utter bullshit?"

Sam sighed as he sat in the second chair. "All of it. How much supernatural history did the Men of Letters manipulate?"

"All of it, except some of the traditional oral histories. Though they did have had a habit of gathering oral histories and writing them down. Probably with their own spin on them. I bet there is more truths in them, than the documentaries you rot your brain with."

"We might have figured out H.H. Holmes sooner if I had watched _more_ documentaries," he grumbled.

"Probably, but you don't watch the ones on crime and shit. You watch the ones you _know_ are full of bullshit. Whatever, that's not why I called you in here. I wanted you to see this," Dean said proudly as he pushed the aged book toward his brother.

" _You_ were reading? What are you and where is my brother?" Sam joked.

"Shut up and read, before I go to a bunch of sites and get you a virus."

"Jerk."

"Bitch. Now read."

"Fine, in the early 1800's, why can't they keep dates on point? It's not that hard to do," Sam complained.

Dean let out a frustrated mockery of a growl. "Would you just read?"

"Whatever, a thirteen-year-old Apache girl, named Dezba, went to her Chief and Medicine Man to tell them of a dream she had. It was said that she had dreamed that she had traveled to the land of conflict and approached a great knife warrior with the knife that she often used to slay her prey. What is this all about?"

"Just read, Sam. Trust me, you'll understand by the end of the tale." Honestly? Dean just wanted to beat his own head against a solid wall. Sometimes, his brother was just a huge pain in his ass; and he suspected that the asshole did it on purpose.

"The medicine man urged her to do as her dream suggested. The chief suspected that the medicine man did so because the girl had violently turned down the Medicine Man's son courtship." Sam went silent and his eyes grew large the further he read. "She cut of his balls?" Sam asked in a high-pitched voice.

Dean smiled dreamily and nodded. "Do not attempt to rape a girl, whose name means war. No, truly meant no back then. The son was cast from the tribe and his father was bitter over the councils' decision."

"I guess the man didn't make it on his own for long. The Chief warned that if any harm came to Dezba on this quest, he would meet a fate much like his son's. Still, she held onto her belief that the Great Coyote chose her for a reason. She gathered her skins, knife, fire striker, and a bundle of food, before setting out on her quest. There are many whispers about her travels, most of the tales are believed to be false. She did, however, reach great knife warrior and pleaded with him to use her knife to craft the knife that had appeared in her dream. She pulled out her knife wrapped in the leather she had drawn the fated design on and showed them both to the Knife Warrior. Who the hell is the great knife warrior?"

"Sam, I cannot believe I am saying this. This is topsy-turvy day or some shit like that, but shut up and read. Almost everything is explained. What isn't explained is easily pieced together by guessing," Dean grumbled. 

"The Great Knife Warrior had no time to craft her piece, so directed her to his blacksmith. The young smith was excited by her design and set to crafting the knife right away. After a full moon's turn the blade was ready. She spied a knife similar to her own blade. The smith informed her that it was for the Great Knife Warrior. She just nodded, handed him a few gems then made her way back to her tribe. She made sure to wash the blade in running water when she crossed a creek, stream, or river.

By the time, she made her way back to her tribe, the knife had an aura of holiness about it. During her first night with the tribe, the medicine man attacked her. For lack of a different weapon, she plunged her newly crafted knife deep into his chest.

The Medicine Man smiled and thanked her after a thick black smoke left his eyes and mouth. She promised to only kill for food and self-defense.

Dean, do you know what this means?"

"Yeah, we have a kick-ass knife."

"Our knife is a Native American artifact. I'm torn," Sam confessed.

"Torn about what?"

"Well, shouldn’t we give it to a museum or something? Maybe they can tell us who the Knife Warrior is."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "You know, the knife's design should have been the only clue you needed for that."

"What it just looks like a... ohhh. So, she gave the design to James Black, who made one for her and one for Jim Bowie. I wonder if the blades share metals. Maybe our blade isn't the only demon slaying blade."

"She cleansed her blade and admitted that it had a holiness about it. I bet the souls and blood that Jim's blade was bathed in, made it a very different blade," Dean said with a shrug.

"Have you asked Chuck or Castiel about this?"

"Haven't seen them. Tell you what, you ask the next time you see them. I am done with research for the next few years. I need a nap and then I need pie. Go get me some damned pie, Sammy, research makes me hungry!" Dean called out as he made his way to bed.

Sam could only sit there in awe. Dean was a hell of a lot smarter than he let on. He wondered what Dean would have grown up to be if there were no supernatural war going on.

~Fin~

**Author's Note:**

> I admit, I have not watched Supernatural since season 6, but I did search to see if I could find the history of thier Demon Slaying knife. Since I found nothing, I came up with this.


End file.
